Elen's Talisman
by egret
Summary: Tonks wakes up in St. Mungo's to find that Dumbledore has decided that the young Auror needs some extra tuition in the art of physical combat. Hooch has taught other warriors her art, but she's never taken one home Underhill before... [femslash]
1. St Mungo's, a Private Room

Tonks snuggled down under the blanket, burrowing her nose under the flat pillow. She frowned sleepily, eyes still closed, then woke with a start, blinking as she crooked her head to peer sideways around the room in confusion. She relaxed, brow creasing as she recognized the familiar scratchy sheets and faded green walls of St. Mungo's. This was not the first time an escapade had led her here, though this did seem to be a single room – she'd never before rated so highly.

She turned her head sharply at an almost-polite cough, wincing as she looked up into a striking sharp-planed face topped by silver spikes easily the match of her own favorite pink. She knew this woman. Hooch from Hogwarts - the flying teacher and Quidditch coach. Definitely not a Death Eater, not with those kind but inhuman eyes - they didn't approve of hybrids anymore than they did of Muggleborns, and sometimes less. Not Order, though, at least not in the last eight months, but not, she thought, entirely oblivious to its activities and aims.

"So, as I'm in St. Mungo's and not tied to the bed, can I brag about winning?" Tonks asked groggily, struggling to roll over to face this possible-enemy, probable-friend.

The other woman snorted impatiently and reached down to help her roll over. "You're alive and the "Dark Lord" is back in his hole, if that's what you mean." Despite her brusque manner, her hands were gentle and reassuring as she helped Tonks to settle herself on her back. The auror was starting to notice specific aches and pains and a peculiar double vision that was somewhat alarming, as it wasn't clearing as she blinked.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Auror. Now, you know where you are -- I take it you also know who you are, who the Minister of Magic is, the current calendar year?"

Tonks smiled at her in thanks, squinting against the late afternoon sunlight streaming in the narrow window. "I'm Gawd-awful-forename Nymphadora, don't-call-me-that Tonks, the Minister is a saccharine piece of candy, you're Madame Hooch of Hogwarts, and it's 1995."

Hooch offered her a dry smile in return. "Good enough."

"Especially for you, young Tonks," offered another, not all-together approving voice from Tonks' other side. She turned her head too sharply, not altogether successfully suppressing a wince.

"Young Tonks! – I'm a bare decade younger'n you, Kingsley," she mocked, yawning, further relaxing at the sight of her sometimes pompous but trustworthy senior.

"Now..." Hooch hesitated, her face sobering, golden eyes flicking over Tonks's face. "What do you remember about last night?" Kingsley Shacklebolt moved to stand next to the professor, exhaustion showing in the drawn lines and tight lips of his face just visible against the light.

"I hope this isn't a reference to the night-before... I really don't like it this rough," Tonks tried to joke uneasily, a growing sense of worry seeping into her thoughts.

Kingsley snorted but remained silent. He had never approved of Tonks' sense of humor. The other woman smiled faintly, "Do you remember a visit to the Department of Mysteries? Young Potter and his friends?"

"Death Eaters... Department of Mysteries, lovely auntie Bellatrix, flying brains – what was in theirs, I wonder – the kids!" She winced as she jerked up, the missing events streaming into her mind.

"The Potter boy and company are fine, several Death Eaters have been exposed, and the Ministry is acknowledging the return of the Dark Lord..." Kingsley broke in.

"Everyone knows that Voldemort is back, and you'll live to fight another day," Hooch reached to settle Tonks back into the cot, attempting to soothe her by her words.

Tonks sighed with relief, sagging back into the bed, then her eyes, a stormy gray today, shot up to catch golden ones. "So why are you two dancing around if everything's fine besides this?" her hand jerking lightly over the blankets covering her midriff. "Wait... _I''ll_ live to fight another day... So... who won't?" She looked from Hooch to Kingsley with unwonted seriousness.

Hooch rested her hands on the blankets, struggling to answer the impatient Auror's question. "Everything wasn't fine – Tonks, I'm sorry, I hear he was your cousin and innocent from Kingsley here and from Dumbledore, but Sirius Black was killed after you were hexed."

Tonks gasped, eyes flicking down, mouth thinning out. She stared at her hands next to Hooch's against her blankets, finally looking up Kingsley, then at the Quidditch mistress firmly. "How... How did he die? What else happened? How's Harry, and the other kids?" Her voice was steady, no trace of her usual humor, but her mouth was very tight. "And why are _you_ here, not that you aren't welcome, but? You aren't an Auror – how do you know about Sirius – was he cleared, at the end?"

"First, no, I'm not an Auror, but I was once, of sorts, and I still work with some... special operations. More importantly, I'm Dumbledore's. He – and Senior Auror Shacklebolt here – asked me to give you some... 'extra tuition' when you're well enough – not on the sly. I've studied various forms of Muggle and wizard martial arts for many years, and this won't be the first time I've done this for an Auror in particular need of those skills. I know about Black's innocence – of those charges, at least – because Albus told me right before I came here. No, he wasn't cleared – that particular Death Eater escaped, or was never there that night."

She reached up and rubbed her eyes wearily, then went on, "As for that night – well, I'll let Kingsley start, as he was there with you..." She and Kingsley continued on to tell the sober Tonks of the events of the last two days, including the public reaction and Fudge's retraction of his denial. Kingsley left in the middle of this recitation in response to a knocking mediwitch's delivered note, but Hooch stayed quietly beside the younger woman after she finished, curling her hand gently around Tonks's when the Auror sought hers out as she continued her recitation. She offered silent support while the younger woman brooded, and only left when the Mediwitch shooed her out to give Tonks her dinner.

"And you need to eat yourself, Professor, and when did you last sleep? Not for two days at least, if I'm any judge, and I think I am. Level One Mediwitch qualifications do not qualify you to ignore your own health..." The round-faced witch, young enough that she had been one of Hooch's students, frowned officiously at her former professor.

Hooch rose to her full height - slight though it was, bowed gracefully with dignity to the suddenly pink-cheeked nurse, and then to the unusually silent Tonks in her cot. "I'll return to discuss some things with you tomorrow around tea-time, and to give you a ride home, shall I?"

Tonks managed a smile for her – "I'd appreciate that," well aware that she didn't have much option to refuse, yet grateful in spite of herself. "You'll need to wear Muggle clothes, though, if you want to visit my little garret."

"Hooch – Madame Hooch? Thank you." Tonks' gray eyes slid shyly to the side, then flicked back up to look at the other woman.

"You're welcome. And I think I can dress appropriately." She smiled faintly, and then swept out, robes catching and sliding free from the iron cot frames she passed.


	2. Cambridge, a small Garret

Hooch appeared in St. Mungo's waiting room the next afternoon as Tonks waited to be discharged, as promised. Tonks examined the other woman's fitted leather motorcycle jacket and pressed trousers with interest – she knew that most witches disdained that particular Muggle style, and the clothes fit Hooch too well and were too well-worn to be anything other than her own. She reached for Tonks's small bundle of bloody and dusty clothing, raising an eyebrow in challenge when the younger woman moved to protest. Tonks smiled ruefully, and gestured with a hand towards the massive public Floogate. She was, unfortunately, almost as familiar with this particular floo as with her own public stop.

The two women emerged in a shadowed alley in Cambridge, dusting off their clothing. "It's this way," Tonks gestured with a hand, catching herself as her sore muscles protested. "I live top of a pottery shop, right near Uni." Aurors had trained in Cambridge for centuries, living alongside of the Muggles that they spent some of their time studying. An auror had to deal with negative intersections of wizard and Muggle on occasion even now, and at one point they had been the only Ministry wizards with an interest in it.

"Ah." Hooch contented herself with a grunt and nod of acknowledgement, more interested in keeping an eye on her injured companion. "I've spent some time here – I studied a bit of my other art here, and I've a few mates here still."

"Your other art? That special fighting?" Tonks asked, as much to distract herself from her returning double vision as out of curiosity.

"Yes. You'll meet some of them in time – it'll be convenient, seeing as you live here. There aren't too many places where wizards can practice the arts as themselves." She frowned, noticing Tonks's difficulty.

"Can you make it?" Hooch asked, her hand coming up to rest supportively on the younger woman's back.

"I'm fine – and aye, it's right... there!" she pointed to a small shop, its storefront shadowed by a second-story garret and roof overhang.

"Mmm," responded Hooch – she'd had too much experience with young Quidditch players hiding their weaknesses after injury not to recognize Tonks's growing debility. She kept her hand firmly on the Auror's lower back.

"The stairs at the back are mine," Tonks gestured, leading Hooch's eyes to a narrow staircase behind the counter that even her sharp eyes hadn't caught. The Muggle proprietor was standing beside the display shelves next to the counter, making a show of cleaning a sparkly-clean vase. Tonks replied to his suggestive wink with a quelling scowl, but Hooch missed it, looking into the small room to the back of the shop with interest – it was clear that this was an artist's studio, not a mere "pottery shop."

"Come on, then," said Tonks brusquely – she was afraid she'd fall if she couldn't sit down quickly. She tugged Hooch rudely past the shop-owner, saying in passing, "Wotcher, Basil, this is Hooch, Hooch, this is Basil, no time for a chat," Hooch caught the Auror around the side, carefully helping her up the steep stairs. They could hear Basil chuckling below.

"I know what _he's_ thinking, I do," grumbled Tonks, tripping over a boot as she practically fell out of Hooch's hands into her favorite comfortably ratty armchair. "Hit that switch, would you – it's a Muggle light switch, less trouble than lighting a lamp – thanks."

"I've seen them before. Do you mind? And tell me the truth about whether you're hurting, I _do_ have an MW qualification for a reason, my dear..." Hooch knelt before the Auror after flipping the switch next to the door, reaching to tilt her head and look into her eyes with concern.

"Yeah, yeah – just a headache, a bit dizzy. I could eat, I could, but I don't doubt there's naught but old cheese here," Tonks replied, jerking her chin out of the other woman's hands impatiently. She paused, looking back down, "I don't mind if you don't, about the other."

The Quidditch professor let go of her reluctantly, suspicious concern written all over her face. "I can fix that, at any rate. You just settle yourself for a bit. And no, I don't mind at all. You could only do my reputation good." She smiled slightly at the younger woman's down-turned head as she stood.

She strode over to the fireplace, igniting a flame behind the grate while hunting through the collection of vividly glazed pots for the one containing the floo powder. She tossed a pinch into the fire, speaking to whoever appeared too softly for Tonks to overhear. The young Auror watched drowsily, head throbbing, not particularly interested.

Despite his occasional stuffy outbursts, she trusted Kingsley's judgment, and more importantly, Dumbledore's. While he had indeed hired many individuals that subsequently proved to be dangerously untrustworthy, he'd never sent any of them to deal with others on his behalf. Besides, they'd all been DADA and quickly removed, not Quidditch teachers for at least seven years. She felt an instinctive liking and the beginning of trust, or at least the desire to trust, for this woman on top of her superiors' recommendation, as well. She'd noticed the striking older woman on her recent visits to Hogwarts, but they'd only met occasionally, for brief moments. She had the impression from past incidents that Hooch, while not a member of the Order, made occasional mysterious excursions on Dumbledore's behalf that had sometimes benefited it.

She frowned, stomach grumbling but headache lessoning, wondering when Hooch had started teaching at Hogwarts. After she'd left herself, at any rate, but Hooch didn't seem very much older despite her silver hair and brisk manner, so... And what _was_ her first name? She'd never said that, either...

"What are you thinking about so hard?" inquired Hooch, looking curiously at Tonks' frown and half-open eyes as she laid out the contents of a hamper on the Auror's small but sturdy dining table. All of her furniture was sturdy, to keep it safe from the woman's perpetual clumsiness.

Tonks rubbed her hands together, the remnants of the headache easily set aside in anticipation of non-Mungo's food. She hadn't noticed the basket arrive, but assumed that the other woman had ordered it from Hogwarts. "You, actually. When did you start at Hogwarts? What did you do before? What's your first name? What sort of 'extracurricular' activities do you engage in for Dumbledore? Did you get that from the school?"

Slightly surprised by this response, Hooch responded, "How flattering. Seven years ago, I played for the Harpies for six years and traveled for seven years before that, I'm half Hyter Sprite, so I don't know you well enough for that - yet, whatever he asks me to, and yes." She'd never been ashamed of her heritage, and she was finding she quite liked the younger woman.

"Ah. Thanks. Is that roast beef and Yorkshire pud? Smells like it." Tonks sniffed the air, changing the subject, a bit startled at the other woman's candor. Others were often offended by her incessant questions, but she couldn't help being curious... At least she knew where those unusual green-gold eyes came from, and that she was right – Hooch wasn't human, she was half-elven. And not Seleighe, though not exactly Unseleighe, either – Hyter sprites could change into buzzards or bees, and were equally prone to harassing or helping their wizard or Muggle neighbors. Although they were known for their care for children – she wondered if Hooch's interest in teaching came from that, though she knew that hybrids often showed characteristics unique from both parents' types. Or possibly, that could be the source of Hooch's care for her, although she found she didn't particularly like that idea. She couldn't be more than eleven or thirteen years younger, after all.

* * *

"So, tell me more about your 'other art'?" asked Tonks, curled sleepily in her armchair – she hadn't moved except to eat since they'd arrived. Her sore arm was cradled protectively over her injured belly, and she'd found herself barely able to stomach half of her usual supper, but she was feeling considerably more like herself.

"Well, we'll be studying a mix of Aikido, Tai Chi, and good old dirty street fighting. Both of those Arts are highly structured, and Tai Chi is more often used as a meditation than as a fighting art, but both are very effective at increasing awareness of what your body is doing and where it is in relation to everything around you. The street fighting helps stop you being too reliant on the forms and makes it more effective in self defense in a real situation."

Hooch took a slow slip of her cider, her golden-green eyes half-hooded as she cataloged the signs of exhaustion and pain showing in Tonks's slumping form. She carefully set the fancifully glazed red and blue mug down on the dark walnut table and stood, reaching down towards the younger woman. "I think it's about time for you to get some sleep, don't you? It's been a long few days."

Tonks hummed in sulky agreement, reaching up for Hooch's hands, squeaking in surprise when she found herself carefully lifted up in the other woman's arms instead, a quickly muttered charm leaving her feel curiously light.

"I can walk, you know!" she half-protested, even as her betraying body relaxed into the embrace.

"Where's your bed? And I'm sure you could, but I know exactly what the Sanguis Flammandi feels like, and I know what the aftermath feels like, as well. And that wasn't all you got, was it?" Hooch smiled sympathetically down at the Auror, pleased that she had accepted her touch so easily.

Tonks pointed to a door half-hidden by a supporting buttress, confused by her comfort with this woman that she barely knew. She decided that she was too exhausted, and that it felt too good, not to accept it, at least for the time being.

Hooch carried her to her bedroom, hitting another Muggle light switch with her elbow as she tilted to open the door. "Not the neatest person, are you?" she commented mildly, taking in the rumpled bedclothes and books on the floor of the cozy alcove. She set Tonks down on her bed and knelt to begin unlacing her boots.

"Hah, hah. I don't often entertain company back here, Kingsley's comments aside." She lay back and watched sleepily as the other woman's hands moved from her now-bare feet to unbutton her shirt. She was so relaxed that she almost didn't react, but she made a token protest, "Whoa, there, cowboy, I can get that, I think."

"Oh!" Hooch's hands froze – she looked down and looked surprised to see them resting lightly against Tonks's breast. She pulled them quickly away, flustered for the first time since Tonks had met her several months ago. "I'm sorry – I wasn't thinking – I wasn't..." she faltered and looked appealingly into Tonks's light eyes.

Tonks chuckled weakly, and said, "Don't worry about it. Could you grab me that shirt there?"

Hooch silently handed her the Muggle t-shirt, cheeks still a little flushed as she turned to go wait in the main room.


	3. Hogwarts, the Small Japanese Atrium

Over the next few weeks, Tonks steadily recovered from her injuries, with only an occasional twinge to remind her of them. She quickly resumed her Auror duties, which seemed to consist primarily of engaging in endless tail-chasing activities meant to reassure a terrified populace. She contacted an increasingly restive Harry Potter and attended the meetings of a depleted Order in a strangely empty Grimmauld Place, setting off her great-aunt's portrait's rancor nearly every time. And three times a week, she met Hooch at Hogwarts to practice combat.

"Why is it, my dear, that you can barely manage the first 8 steps on Wednesdays when you are perfectly capable every other day of the week? And this week, you can't even perform the first eight?" asked Hooch with mild frustration, peering down at a sulky Tonks collapsed at her feet.

Tonks looked up at her unhappily, magenta-pink hair flopped into bright purple-blue eyes, shading gray with distress now. Tuesday evenings meant contacting Harry – which had begun to be disturbing as well as depressing, with the boy's alternate malaise and fury wearing even on the normally buoyant Tonks – and an Order meeting at Grimmauld Place, where she inevitably set off her least favorite cousin's poisonous rants. Without Sirius available to draw her fire and defuse it with his mockery, it had begun to focus on Tonks, as the only member of the Black family to enter the house. She was getting awfully tired of being told that she was a worthless degenerate perverted half-blood.

It made it worse that even her Muggleborn father agreed with and repeated some of it – while both he and her mother were very active in fighting anti-Muggle and blood purity prejudice, her father had inherited and kept some very negative ideas about same-gender relationships from his very Christian Muggle parents. They had been very close when she was young, but the discovery that her romantic life would never include males had driven an unmovable wedge between them. Her mother chose to remain aloof from this particular argument – she still had frequent contact with both parents, but it was strained and irregularly supportive.

This particular Wednesday she had been hit with a particularly virulent auntly rant the night before, highly vocal blame for bumping the portrait from Molly Weasley, a sullen Harry, worrying news about Death Eater activities, a nasty encounter with a sneering former lover also a member of the Order, and her father at lunch with lectures and some anti-gay Muggle literature from America. He wouldn't understand that she didn't _want _to change her sexuality.

"I just... I hate Tuesdays! And they affect my Wednesdays." She left it at that, refusing to rise. She felt too crotchety to make an honest effort at anything, let alone a physical activity requiring grace and control such as Tai Chi.

Hooch studied her new friend's drooping posture, dropping down in front of her to sit cross-legged. The two were practicing in the Japanese garden in the small atrium that Hooch shared with Milagra Rara, Hogwarts' Special Talents Tutor. As Milagra only taught Seventh, and rarely, Sixth Years, and never had more than ten students once a week each per year, she was rarely present, preferring to spend time in the flat she kept in Hogsmeade except when she had a morning session. This afternoon, the two had the atrium to themselves.

"Want to tell me about it?" Hooch coaxed gently. She'd come to know Tonks well enough to know that visible distress was unusual, no matter what the provocation. One of the things she enjoyed most about the younger woman was her usual cheer and enthusiasm – she herself tended to be overly serious.

"I... I'm just tired – all those old goats finding You-Know-Who-and-wish-you-didn't in the lavatory bowl, you know. And family and ex problems just when I most didn't need them. My da and my aunt hated each other, but just my luck, the one thing they agree on is my complete inadequacy. As does my ex, incidentally, as she spent all lunch telling me."

Tonks looked up at Hooch, wishing she was sure that she could tell her the full extent of why she was upset, but she still had no idea how much the other woman knew, COULD know, about the Order, and any discussion of the full extent of her problem with her aunt would necessarily involve an explanation of Grimmauld Place. She also, unaccountably, felt a bit hurt to have Hooch point out her undeniable clumsiness today.

"Inadequate? Feh. For what, to father children? I can't imagine anything else that you wouldn't be more than adequate to do," Hooch offered, reaching to touch her knee lightly. "And former lovers aren't known for their impartiality when discussing your faults – you should hear some of mine."

"Well, actually... Technically... I am a Metamorphmagus, you know." Tonks grinned teasingly at Hooch. This was true, although she truly disliked changing her physical gender. This had been one of the issues that had come between her and Hestia – the other woman had wanted her to change too much of herself physically too frequently. She looked at Hooch curiously – this was the first time the other woman had mentioned anything specific about her romantic life, although they'd both established that they preferred women early on. While this wasn't nearly as looked down upon in the Wizarding World as in the Muggle world, it still wasn't the usual, and many of the Pureblood families would expect such a witch to marry and produce a child before 'indulging' their true inclinations.

Hooch's eyebrows shot up. She offered Tonks a sharp look to let her know that she wasn't distracted by this tangent, but asked "You can really father a child without spells? I didn't know that – are you sure it would work? I thought the Metamorphmagic changes were strictly surface?"

"Nope. Oh, they're surface in that it's always _me_, but physically, they go down to the organ level unless I want them not to. When I first started changing my age, it was really hard because it took a while to figure out how not to change my age on the inside, too – I could have given myself a coronary if I'd changed the age of my heart at the wrong time. I was really glad when I figured out how to change just on the surface."

Hooch pursed her lips thoughtfully, reaching over to tug lightly at a lock of magenta hair. "I know that you change your hair, but what else is different? Could you shift back to your original... template?"

Tonks stiffened slightly, but nodded. She changed from a small woman with blue-violet eyes and spiky pink hair to a small woman with unusually clear green-hazel eyes and thick, shaggy black hair. Her face and build hadn't changed much overall, although she'd been revealed to have a slightly crooked nose, clearly broken at some point. Hooch stood, reaching to tug Tonks up to meet her.

"I want to see how far off you took it from the original you," she explained as her hands skimmed lightly over Tonks's body, measuring length of limbs, back, etc.

"You are probably having problems partly because you aren't quite matching up when you shift parts of the whole – your body expects everything to be in a certain place and move in a certain way, and it just isn't. I should have thought of this before, but I forget that you're a Metamorphmagus – you never change anything but your hair when I see you, you know! Why do you keep your eyes blue? They're lovely like this?"

"Oh." Tonks managed, no longer surprised by how much she liked Hooch's touch after weeks of working together like this. She felt a little guilty to be feeling like this, knowing that Hooch didn't know and didn't intend her to feel anything sexual. She arched her spine a little under the other woman's touch unconsciously, causing Hooch's eyes to widen in surprised pleasure behind her back.

"Thanks – I got tired of rude remarks from my family – they all have blue eyes, both sides, and no true Tonks _or_ Black could possibly have hazel – and no-one believed they were my real eyes, anyway, most people with hazel eyes have flecks, not rings of color. So, what can I do? I mean, I'm still a clod when I _don't_ shift anything, and I _have_ to shift when I'm an Auror – one of my biggest assets is my ability to look like someone else."

Hooch stood in front of Tonks, her hands resting lightly on the Auror's shoulders. "Well, we'll skip fighting practice today, but I want you to do the exercises I'll give you instead when you _aren't_ shifted. I think that the more connected you get to your body the more able you'll be to carry it over when you shift. The Tai Chi will help with that – I want you to practice the first 24 stances in your own body in the morning and then in your most usual shifted forms at night, every day, on top of the other fighting practice you perform. That should help with stress, too," she added at Tonks's exaggerated groan.

She smiled at her pupil-friend, reaching to stroke a bit of soft hair out of her eyes. "You'll like this part – I want you to get massages, in your original and favorite shifted forms, at least every other day, to get you more connected to where your body is."

"I've never had a massage – I don't know if I want someone I don't know touching me," said Tonks, frowning. She was a little uncomfortable at the idea of someone touching her when she couldn't watch them, especially in her natural form. Her eyes flicked mischievously with an idea.

"Could you give me one?," she looked up appealingly at Hooch through her fringe. "Just the first – because I've never had one before." She could get an idea what that would feel like and get some more of that gentle firm touch that she had come to like over the past few weeks.

Hooch smiled and said, "of course, my Lady. Let's have a hot bath first, to relax you." She pulled away to offer an exaggerated bow, offering Tonks her arm to lead her to the Japanese-derivative furo she shared with the absent Milagra.


	4. 12 Grimmauld Place, the Kitchen

Tonks limped up the steps of Grimmauld Place, leaning heavily on a cane.

"Hah!" Moody snorted after he ascertained her identity and gave her entry, his magical eye revolving faster as he examined her stance. "Never, never trust a green Auror at your back – they'll get you every time. A friend of yours is here on Albus's business – very peculiar woman."

"Moody, he's been an Auror a year longer than I have! And it wasn't really his fault, some old man's Voldemort-in-the-privy turned out to be a Boggart-in-the-privy," Tonks replied virtuously. She couldn't help but smirk at the memory of Pratchett Gilhooley's pop-eyed horror – the other Auror had made no secret of his disdain for Tonks's mixed blood and slapdash manner, and it had been satisfying to see his excessive reaction despite the pain his misfired hex was causing her. "Friend? Who?"

"Name of Hooch. Quidditch mistress at Hogwarts. Worked for the Order last time around, unofficially as it were, too, but refuses to join it full-fold for 'family reasons'." Moody grunted suspiciously, clearly not pleased at this, but unable to find any other reason to mistrust Hooch.

"Aces, didn't think I'd get to see her this week, with this hip. And she's half Hyter Sprite – because it's a human conflict, if she joined us, one of her gente would have to join Voldemort's lot to balance it out, and we don't need that." Tonks smiled, turning more quickly in her eagerness to get to the kitchen – her meetings with Hooch were becoming by far the best part of her week, even when she didn't succeed with the fighting stances she was learning.

Unfortunately, she moved too quickly with her bad hip and dropped her cane against the wall and portrait – she felt a simultaneously shooting pain down her side and resounding in her head as her aunt's loathsome portrait started to shriek:

"Degenerates! Mudbloods! Disgraceful castoffs, shames to the family name, sub-human perverted freaks, traitors..." Moody growled and forced the curtain over it again to muffle it, mostly unsuccessfully.

"Tonks!" Molly Weasley rushed through the door, scolding in exasperation even before she saw Tonks. "Dear, can you not _try_ to be a little more graceful?! Every time... How is anyone supposed to get anything done around here! If it's not the children, it's the grown Aurors..." Tonks stood uncomfortably, teeth gritted as she cocked her head, smiling sheepishly – she was quite fond of the Weasley children and of Arthur Weasley, and she respected Molly, but she was growing increasingly exasperated with Molly Weasley's belittling treatment of her.

"She couldn't avoid it because she's injured, Molly," came a sharp but welcome voice as Madame Hooch, still wearing her Hogwarts robes open over her preferred comfortable trousers and blouse, pushed past the red-headed woman to reach Tonks's side. She smiled down at her, placing a supportive arm around her waist to allow her to take the weight off of her foot, concern clear in her mild hawk's eyes.

"What _was_ that?" she queried, with a disgusted nod towards the now-covered painting.

"Eh, it's not so bad," Tonks protested, relaxing a bit against the other woman's side. "It'll be fine in two days. And that was my lovely first cousin once removed, _such_ a sweet soul she was."

"Well, you'll be staying here tonight, where we can keep an eye on you," Molly said firmly, reaching to touch her other arm. "I'm so sorry, dear, you know my temper, and then you are forever setting _her_ off..." she half apologized, with a disapproving look up at the covered portrait.

" 'Sno big thing, we're all stressed. And thanks, but I'll not be staying here tonight, thank you very much – I haven't been in my own bed in a week." Tonks said just as firmly, straightening her good leg and balancing upright against Hooch's arm to show her determination.

Molly temporized, pulling herself up and tightening her chin to say, "You very well will stay here, my girl, you never look after..."

"She won't stay here, and she won't stay alone," Hooch interrupted, looking back and forth between the two women. "I'll stay at home with her. We're friends, and I'm Mediwitch qualified, and she has nothing like _that_ at home to plague her, "with a nod to the covered portrait, "so it will be fine."

"There, it's settled, and now we've a meeting to get to, Molly, and I need to sit, so if you'll excuse us?" Tonks said, taking her cane from Moody and stepping away from Hooch.

Molly snorted and stepped through the door, "Well, come and eat properly then. And it's all ready, so we don't need help!"

Tonks bumped lightly against Hooch as the redhead turned her back, crossing her eyes slightly with a silent sigh when the other woman looked at her. Hooch chuckled softly and Moody snorted, looking back and forth from the two of them. "Good woman, but very motherly. Not what you need or want, eh, Tonks?" He smirked at the two of them, widening his whirling eye meaningfully.

She stared at him in puzzlement as she leaned on Hooch, responding, "No, I don't need another mum, if that's what you mean. And she's a lovely woman, just very... _sensitive_. To noise and such, I mean."

Tonks always _tried_ to be tactful, but she found Molly's attempts to manage her increasingly irritating and offensive. She was also fairly convinced that Molly's conviction that Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley children must be kept ignorant of the Order business and related trials had helped to lead to the Ministry incident, though in a very small way. After all, the woman couldn't have had any real effect on Dumbledore's opinion on the matter, but she _could_ reinforce it, and possibly increase the younger wizards' and witches' resentment of the situation.

She felt Hooch sigh a little above her, fluffing her spiky hair, as she said, "And I don't want to play Mum, so let's be on, shall we?" Tonks agreed and they moved towards the kitchen, clutching her friend's steady arm.

"I always seem to be injured when I run into you outside of Hogwarts," Tonks murmured to Hooch as they found seats together on a flat bench crammed at the end of the tables pushed together. She looked around a little sadly – though nearly every seat was filled with a member of the Order, although they certainly weren't all present, but no matter how crowded the room, it would always seem empty without Sirius.

"And I always seem to be taking care of you – although I certainly don't object," Hooch said back to her softly. "Speaking of, you should eat something – that fish stew smells good."

Tonks grimaced, saying "You think anything with fish in smells good; I swear you're half pelican." She loathed fish stew, although she was fond enough of fresh fish. She'd had an unfortunate experience with a hex involving fish eyeballs and stew as a student.

Hooch snorted, responding with "You're not far wrong, actually – my gente tends to osprey rather than hawks or vultures."

"I can see that," Tonks replied, reaching up to brush lightly at spiky silver hair framing clear golden eyes. Hyter Sprites could sometimes become vultures, or buzzards, or hawks, or even clouds of tiny bees. They'd never discussed this – Tonks looked curiously at her friend, wondering, her hand coming to rest on the other woman's upper arm. "So, can..."

A loud harrumph interrupted, and she turned to see Molly looking at her severely. She glanced around quickly to find that the doors were closed and Dumbledore was seating himself at the other end of the table. Moody was smirking irritatingly down the table at her, and Lupin was smiling tolerantly, as the others sat quietly, except for Mundungus's ever-present cough. Tonks flushed, feeling unreasonably defensive, as she scowled back. She pulled her hand down to her lap and adjusted her bad hip, which she now realized had been throbbing painfully ever since they'd sat down on the hard bench. She'd been too distracted to notice.

Dumbledore smiled down the table, tired eyes twinkling at them, as he suggested that they eat first. They ate quickly as they talked, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Tonks picked at her stew, but stole most of Hooch's biscuit, pushing over her half-full supper bowl in apology when the other woman hissed lightly at her.

"We have received word from a most excellent source that Voldemort has an interest in a certain object in East Anglia. Queen Elen of Colchester, whom you may recall from History of Magic, was either an elf, a spectacularly powerful witch, or something other than mortal, who had great talent with the manipulation of souls. She left behind a fetish, a bit of horn and silver fashioned into a talisman, that may or may not allow the wielder to separate the soul from the body – either to send it on a journey, or to destroy it." He paused grimly, allowing the shocked reactions to pass. Any kind of magic affecting the soul was considered the Darkest of the Dark, even the type of shamanic soul journeying that had been permissible in Elen's time. Even Avada Kavada only killed its victims, and it had actually been developed as a kinder form of euthanasia – the original intent had been medical, not evil at all.

"And how, pray tell, do we know that this object exists and is effective?" drawled Hestia, looking doubtful. Tonks smirked a little – Hestia was a very good Auror, but she had always been very skeptical of anything developed previous to the last hundred years, especially if it was old enough to be folklore. She reminded Tonks of her favorite Muggle uncle, a psychologist who believed that anything older than ten years was hopelessly outdated.

"This object is known to the Headmasters of Hogwarts, though it far predates our office. I am sorry to say that it is quite real, and potentially quite dangerous. What was acceptable when Queen Elen was a shaman is considerably more sinister in our age." Dumbledore sighed, looking tired. "However, we have our most excellent Madame Hooch from Hogwarts here to help us with the this situation. Madame?"

"Quite clearly, it is in our best interest to prevent Voldemort from acquiring this... fetish. It is currently being kept Underhill by a small group of Seleighe Shee in the fens of northern Cambridgeshire. They're Seleighe, but they won't just pass it on to us, and they may offer it to Voldemort, if he doesn't take it first." Hooch paused to drink her wine, looking up as Severus Snape spoke.

"Shee? In England, long enough to have this? And how do you know this? And why would _they _have such an artifact? If they're Seleighe, or "good" elves, why can't we just leave it with them?" he asked, not quite sneering. Kingsley nodded, looking curious – Shee were generally considered Irish fay, and not English.

"There are Shee enclaves all over Europe – they simply don't always use that name, or make themselves known. Seleighe just means that they won't cheat or attack other Shee, or go out of their way to harass humans or other non-Shee, not that they will necessarily get along with them. They might easily decide to give it Voldemort to avoid trouble – this lot tends to want to stay isolated. They have it because Queen Elen gave it them." Hooch responded patiently. "I know all of this because I grew up spending half my summers Underhill with my grandmother – she's a Hyter Sprite, and she married a man of the Shee, from another enclave."

"Lucky Umbridge didn't know that, aren't ye?" commented Rubeus Hagrid, looking fascinated. "Can ye turn into a bee, or a buzzard? And"

"Now isn't the time for this, Hagrid," Snape interrupted, looking irritated. "Hooch, what do we need to do to get the thing before Voldemort, or get them to protect it from him, as that's clearly where this is going?"

Hooch chuckled, saying, "This really isn't the time, but I can't turn into a bee, Hagrid. And you won't be doing anything, Severus. I and one other will go get it from them, as emissaries from Dumbledore."

"And I can't be this other?" Severus asked, scowling.

"Stop being contrary, Snape! You just want to go because she said you won't!" Moody interrupted, glaring at the younger man.

"Tonks will be accompanying Madam Hooch, if she agrees and is well enough recovered?" Dumbledore interrupted, looking down the table inquiringly at the young Auror.

"I'll be up for it in three days – is that soon enough? And of course I'll go," Tonks responded, startled but pleased. She would very much like to work with her friend, and she was very interested to see the other half of Hooch's life. Her hip and leg ached fiercely, but she knew from sad experience that they would recover quickly as soon as she took the potions that they'd given her at St. Mungo's – she hadn't taken anything at all yet to avoid falling asleep during the meeting.

"Settled, then. She'll need off for a month, Kingsley, can you do it? It'll probably be less than that, but just in case," Hooch inquired, looking at Tonks's senior.

"She'll be off recovering from her injury. It will become apparent in the morning that it was more severe than first suspected," Kingsley agreed.


	5. Cambridge, a small Bedroom

Tonks sighed, shaking her head to flick water off of her hair. The air in Cambridge was so humid that it was almost rain, and it was certainly enough to soak her through. Despite it being summer, she was chilled, her exhaustion and lingering pain making her sensitive to the rain and light breeze. Hooch stepped away from the stall where she'd bought them a meal of Indian take-away and walked over to take Tonks's arm.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, shifting the bag of food and the packet containing their robes to rest on her hip.

"Yes. Just tired. And hungry – thanks, Hooch!" she brightened, smiling at her friend reassuringly. She really was grateful that the other woman had offered to get her food more to her liking, and she had picked up a taste for a good curry from her Muggleborn father. Fortunately, her flat wasn't far off.

The two women walked to the little pottery shop that Tonks maintained her flat above. The nosy store owner was actually the Muggle son of a squib, so he was aware of Tonks' connections to the Wizarding World, but had no real connection of his own, his mother having been cast off by her pureblood family as a child. Tonks did not know what family she had been thrown out of, but she had guessed that it wasn't a particularly nice family. The woman had been a childhood friend of her mother's before it had become clear that she was never going to become a witch, which made it likely that her parents had been connections of the Blacks, hardly a recommendation. It had been a combination of falling in love with the Muggleborn Ted Tonks and what had happened to her childhood friend that had led Andromeda to break ties with the Blacks, something that Tonks highly respected her mother for doing.

"Have you a key handy?" asked Hooch as they arrived at the shut-up shop, jolting Tonks out of her thoughts.

"Yes, of course, here – "Tonks unlocked the Muggle deadbolt, ushering Hooch in with a slight bow. She locked the door and they moved towards the staircase in the back of the dark shop, not bothering to turn on the lights, the faint glow from the street lamps enough to find their way to the stairs.

Once they'd arrived in Tonks's small flat, she settled herself in her favorite battered chair with a sigh that was a combination of pain and relief to be sitting down. Hooch set down the food and packet of clothing, muttering a spell to keep it warm and then lighting the fire in the grate.

She turned back to the shivering Tonks, reaching down to tug her up. "Come on, now, you can't stay in those wet clothes."

Tonks whined softly in protest but followed Hooch's directive to go to her bedroom, wanting nothing more than to sit in a huddle and concentrate on her pain. She'd been hungry, but now that she was faced with the effort of actually eating, she didn't want to.

She undressed stiffly, struggling not to fall. Clad in her favorite warm flannel pajamas, she walked back to meet Hooch, ruefully regretting that she never seemed to make a good showing around the other woman. She was convinced that she was too clumsy, too young and too inept to ever be desirable to the gifted athlete, something she had begun to want increasingly over the summer. She'd always thought Hooch attractive, but her appeal had begun to increase tremendously as she'd gotten to know her as a friend. She walked out to find that Hooch had taken the time to hang up their wet cloaks on the hooks near the fireplace and laid out the food.

"You need to get something drier and warmer on, too," she protested, reaching out to tug at Hooch's wet shirt. "Charms are never enough after you've been soaked to the bone. Borrow a set of pajamas – they're nice and warm and you're staying here tonight anyway."

The taller woman hesitated, but responded, "Alright – thanks. We aren't far off in size, I don't think."

Tonks snorted, saying "We aren't – and anyway, I have clothing in every possible size and style, for women AND men, to save myself having to transfigure it. Some people can tell, you know – wouldn't be much of a disguise if they could tell what the original clothing looked like, and I was trying to be a pureblood Duke or something." She led Hooch to her room, digging around to find the set of soft cotton pajamas she was sure would fit her friend.

"Have you ever done that?" Hooch inquired, startled. "Sounds risky to me – there are only so many of those, and they are powerful and jealous of their status."

"Nah, but I've done lords from other countries – nobody could know them all, you know," she said, smiling at Hooch as she left her to change.

Tonks's smile changed to a grimace as soon as she was through the door – her hip _hurt._ She hurried as best she could to the table, pausing to grab the bottles containing her healing potions from her cloak on the peg. She decided to be rude and start eating immediately so that she could take the medicine. Even with as much as she'd had to take it, she was sensitive to it, and she knew that the only way to lessen that was to eat with it.

"Hungry, were we?" came an amused voice from behind her, just as she began to crunch her second papadum. She turned to find Hooch standing in bare feet and pajamas that didn't quite fit. She stared for a second – the pajamas were summer-weight and a little too tight, and they clung distractingly to Hooch's damp skin – and replied that she'd had to, to be able to take her potions.

Hooch's smile turned to concern, and she asked, "You mean you hadn't already? You must have been in agony all during that meeting and the walk over here – why didn't you take them?" She scolded Tonks as she sat and began to eat a bit herself.

"I couldn't – they make me sleepy, and I'd have been fair useless at the meeting. I had some little bits to discuss after you went out to wait for me, you know. That's part of why I left early, too, though – I'd normally have stayed all through, except that I needed to take this and didn't want you to wait so long."

"Well, I can help you after we eat. You know that those aren't as effective for pain if you take them too late, even if they do heal your bones just the same. I'll give you a massage – it'll make you relax enough to sleep."

A massage from Hooch? Worth getting hurt, Tonks thought as she smiled, agreeing and thanking her friend.

* * *

"Alright, let's warm this up," Hooch said, her voice gentle, rolling a vial of oil between her fingers. She had transfigured some honey into her favorite ginger-eucalyptus massage oil, explaining that it was easier for her to change one viscous liquid into another. She'd claimed to be inept at transfiguration, but Tonks thought the massage oil was impressive enough – the scent, texture and color were subtle and perfect. She lay naked except for her knickers on the sheets, stiff from pain and tension despite the relaxing action of the potions she'd taken earlier. She trusted Hooch and loved her touch, but she'd never been comfortable with touch when she was feeling vulnerable.

"Let me know if I hurt you, okay? I never want to hurt you..." came Hooch's voice as her hands fell warm onto Tonks' lower back. She let out a slight gasp at the shock of sensation she felt at the touch, but was relieved to find that she was not uncomfortable. Though she wasn't exactly _comfortable_, either...

Hooch's hands slid slickly over her back and shoulders, pressing deeply and stroking lightly. "Try to relax – the looser you are all over the better you'll feel and the easier it will be to sleep." She continued to stroke Tonks's back, leaving trails of heat everywhere her hands touched. Tonks suppressed the urge to moan with pleasure, closing her eyes and submitting herself to the other woman's ministrations, her nose twitching at the clean, sharp scent of eucalyptus and ginger.

The combination of the touches and the healing potions were finally making her entire body go limp and relaxed, her legs falling slightly apart, her nose burrowing slightly under her pillow. She squeaked involuntarily as the pressure skated along the sides of her breasts, pressed into the bedclothes. She heard Hooch's breath deepen... that was important... could mean something, but she was too relaxed, too liquid with pleasure to remember.

Hooch's hands moved to her hip and backside, moving tentatively at first, finally kneading her injured left hip and buttock. Tonks sighed in relief, feeling the tension and tautness disappear after the initial discomfort.

"Here, let me just ease... this... down..." Hooch requested, tugging gently at Tonks's knickers. Tonks stiffened slightly, then relaxed, lifting her hips slightly to allow them to be pulled down, and off. She lay limp, naked and trusting before the Quidditch Mistress, knowing that she was safe and swimming in blissful hormones from the gentle but firm touch. Hooch poured more warm scented oil on her naked lower back and buttocks, making Tonks twitch slightly as some of the oil flowed between her legs, tickling her. She gasped as Hooch's hands grasped both of her buttocks at once as the other woman straddled her legs.

"Alright there, lovey?" came Hooch's concerned voice. Tonks smiled dreamily into the bed, pleased at the endearment and loving this concentrated attention and care.

"Mmm-hm. Don't stop, please?" Tonks managed, actually pressing herself up slightly into Hooch's hands, which immediately resumed their firm caress. Arousal flickered underneath her skin and through her body, but exhaustion melded it into more bearable comfort in the touch. She lost track of time, half sleeping but forcing herself to concentrate on those hands and her friend's warm weight and presence above her, not wanting to miss a minute of it.

Finally she felt a soft cloth rubbing her body as Hooch wiped away the oil. She felt the bed move as Hooch stood and draped the sheets gently over her. "Hey, don't go," she protested drowsily. "Sofa's hard as a rock, sleep here?" she offered, wearily patting the side of the bed.

"Thought you were asleep?" Hooch murmured. "Alright. Here, let's get your pajamas back on, then." She tugged the coverlet and sheets back from Tonks's naked body.

"Just get _in_ here," Tonks grumped sleepily, "you're letting all the cold in." She lifted a heavy arm to catch at Hooch's pajamas and tug at her. The other woman hesitated a second, then settled into the bed next to her, tucking the blankets around them both. Tonks sighed impatiently when Hooch remained rigidly still on the other side of the bed and wiggled until she was cuddled up to her friend, bumping her until she relaxed around her. "Just go to sleep, mmm?" she yawned, letting herself fall completely asleep almost instantly as arms moved to hold her close.


	6. Ouse Washes, an Inn

**NOTE:** I'm not sure I'm pleased with some of this, and I know that the geography may be off, but I wanted to upload something before people lost interest. Thanks for the reviews, y'all. And just so you know - I've never been to England, so I'll blame any errors on that. If you know better than anything I say about it, let me know.

* * *

Tonks walked along the gravel path, happily aware that her leg and hip were as good as new. Better, even – she'd always healed abnormally quickly, whether because of Metamorphmagic or some other inborn gift, she neither knew nor cared, but she'd never felt so much better so soon after an injury. She laughed with the pleasure of being healthy, of being with one of her favorite people in the world, and of being about to find out about a group of people that almost no one knew much about. Hooch turned to smile at her, asking her what was so funny. She bounced slightly, starting to skip as they walked.

"Oh, just happy. I love finding out about people, you know that – I think it's half of why I became an Auror." She didn't add that she was just happy to be with Hooch, too – she'd begun to hope over the last few days that the other woman might just return her interest and affection, but she wasn't about to presume, until she was sure. She'd had enough of that with a crush on her then-best friend in Hogwarts. She never wanted to risk repeating that experience – she was quite sure that Hooch would not react so badly as Annie had, but she didn't want to chance losing her friendship, or raise any awkwardness between them, however unlikely.

"Well, you'll find out more than anyone else has about my mother's people, and the Seleighe Shee, too," she gave her friend a sharp glance. "You probably already do know more – I know that you explained why I've never joined the club to our wall-eyed friend."

"I'm sorry, should I not have?" Tonks looked at her in surprised concern. "I didn't realize it was a secret." The two woman had talked about anything and everything when they'd met to practice martial arts, and then when they'd started to meet for tea or supper when possible.

"No-no, I just don't talk about it much with anyone else," Hooch reassured her. "Umbridge isn't a one-off, unfortunately, and I didn't want any harassment to come my way or my kin's." She gestured up the path, "there's the Inn – we'll stay there tonight and see about getting Underhill tomorrow night when the moon's full. This lot is very traditionalist, and the formalities _must_ be maintained."

"Right, then. And we're even – I've never talked about being a Metamorphmagus like I have with you unless forced." Tonks instantly relaxed as she told her, jiggling her reduced luggage in her pocket.

She'd never been to this Inn, a small Wizarding business on the edge of the Ouse Washes nature reserve in Cambridgeshire, though it wasn't more than a few hours travel from her flat, even if she hadn't been able to apparate. It was relatively secluded, even in the middle of a well-visited area, though it was not completely isolate from the rest of the area. Muggle and Wizarding folk both stayed there, so it had limited magical amenities. It had no connection to the floo, and no House Elves. Magical guests needed to apparate to a place out of the view of Muggles and walk along the lane to reach it – it was considered part of its charm by some, and hopelessly barbaric by others.

* * *

Tonks bumped the door open with her hip, helping the maid carry their supper. They'd decided to share a room and have food sent up so that they could discuss certain aspects of the upcoming expedition in private – they hadn't had much time to do more than select their own clothing and gifts for their hosts in the previous few days.

She paid the woman – she still wasn't sure whether the other was a witch or a Muggle, so she just gave her two tenners and hoped it'd be acceptable. It seemed to be, as the woman nodded her thanks and left as Hooch arrived.

"Thanks," said Hooch nodding to the re-inflated luggage sitting on the bench beside the old brass bed, gleaming in the fading summer light.

"Of course. So, while we eat, what else do I need to know?" Tonks asked, sitting at the small table under the window set deep into the eaves of their attic room. They'd already discussed basic protocol – it wasn't far off from what she had learned as a child from her mother for dealing with her Black relatives.

"Well..." Hooch paused to take a mouthful of eel, her eyes widening in pleasure. "Thanks for this, by the way."

"Knew you'd like it – supposed to be fresh out of the Ouse upriver this morning, but I'll stick to plain old cottage pie, thanks." Tonks smiled despite her dislike of most fish, pleased that Hooch had liked her choice. She'd paid twice what it was worth – it was to have been the cook's supper.

"Alright. There's something we've never discussed about Hyter Sprites that you'll need to know, because it may cause problems, although I think we can fix it. I probably should have told you before," Hooch squirmed a little, setting down her fork and looking away from the astonished Tonks, as she rambled on.

"I'll understand if you're angry, but it really is the easiest way to deal with it, and it's why it had to be you."

"Hooch, just spit it out" Tonks put her hand on Hooch's forearm, tilting her head to meet the downcast golden hawk's eyes. She'd never seen Hooch dither like this.

The other woman sighed, and looked up at her to explain. "Well, you know that Hyter sprites tend to pick one mate, and keep them, if they can. Sometimes the person doesn't respond, and then the sprite is alone forever. Unless they made a mistake and it was just a youthful crush – that happens sometimes when they-we are young, because we don't usually find our mate until we're in our fourth or fifth decade, or older. Before that we tend to... _play, _no hearts involved." She grimaced a bit, making Tonks wonder with an uncomfortable twinge exactly how much Hooch herself had played...

"Anyway," she continued, "that's the only person we tell our heart names to, outside of family and extremely close friends, people you trust absolutely. It's considered very poor decorum to chase another's mate, and a person who did that would be ostracized."

"So – what are you telling me? I wouldn't chase any of them, if that's what you're saying!" Tonks frowned at her, puzzled and a bit hurt.

"No, no, I know you wouldn't do that, especially on a formal mission like this. I just... thought you ought to know."

"Good – I was going to say, I thought you knew me better than that." Tonks looked at her friend, who still wouldn't meet her eyes. This wasn't all of it, by any means. "Hooch... "she coaxed, concerned. Suddenly an awful thought hit her – "I'm not going to be introduced to _your_ mate that you've hidden, am I?"

"No!" Hooch looked up quickly, almost laughing. "No, I promise... you'll be the first to know when I get a response from my chosen one. I thought for a long time that I wouldn't have one, because sometimes hybrids don't mate that way, but I found out that I _will_ have, if she'll have me. No, it's naught to do with me, really – it's you."

"Me?! And of course yours will have you – she'd be mad not to." Tonks gave her a small smile, patting and releasing the arm she still held. She shoved the ache she felt at the idea of Hooch taking a mate down to think about later.

"Do you think so? I've been trying to court her, but she doesn't seem to respond at all. She either doesn't want me, or she's completely oblivious." Hooch stared at Tonks, pain and frustration mingling in her expression.

"Oh, Hooch. She must be mad – or maybe she really is oblivious. Who is she? Can I help?" she asked, ignoring the misery that seemed to be trying to take over her soul in honest desire to help her friend, who was obviously in pain. Hooch's chosen must be a fool, she thought fiercely. She deserves better...

"After this little visit, alright? I'll tell you then. No distractions, right?" Hooch sighed, brushing damp eyes quickly. "Anyway, that doesn't matter right now. The point is, Hyter Sprites are attracted to certain kinds of power and personality, especially when they're young, and you, my dearling, are _very_ attractive. Just about every un-mated Sprite is going to be drawn to you."

"Even the Elves will be, although their intentions won't be as honorable, if you can call it that – they _will_ hurt you carelessly, while at least the younger 'Sprites are honest about just wanting to roll around in the hay. I don't think we'll have much trouble getting them to agree to let us have Queen Elen's fetish, although we'll have to follow the traditions, of course – it's more trouble than it's worth, and I'm family, and you're a fascinating mage of a rare type they won't have often seen – but they may want to take more from you than you want to give. Some of the younger ones aren't exactly wise or considerate in their dealings with humans of any kind, and I don't want you hurt in any way."

"What?" Tonks squeaked. "You're saying that horny elves and sprites are going to be chasing me? You can't be serious! What am I supposed to do? I'm NOT going to play up to them!" She stared at Hooch incredulously.

"No! I wouldn't do that to you – we'll have them think that you're bonded already. And not the human way, they don't take that seriously, I mean, mated to me. Or soon to be mated – they'll be able to tell we haven't yet consummated the bond, but if we declare it, it'll be accepted, under certain conditions. Also, I'm nearing an age where there's a _lot _of pressure to be mated, or at least to have a child, especially with my family because I'm the only one in my generation, and this will let the visit concentrate on the actual task without a lot of interference."

"So... I'm your fiancée? How could they tell?" Tonks asked feebly. She wasn't sure what to feel – she'd be accepted as Hooch's mate, which was very nice, but it was false, which wasn't, and randy elves might be after her.

"And..." she swallowed hard, "what about your real... chosen? Will she be there -- what might she think about it? Will that make it worse for you?"

"Oh – I don't think this will be a problem, and you won't meet her there. Thank you," Hooch smiled at Tonks, obviously pleased that she had asked. Tonks felt her heart lift a little – Hooch obviously valued her as a friend, chosen or no chosen.

"And yes, you'd be my chosen – we don't call it fiancée, because marriage is pretty much irrelevant for us, although a lot of us do that, too, especially if the chosen isn't a Sprite – and they could tell because they could tell how I feel about you, to an extent. Hyter sprites are empathic with each other, to a degree. You're the only member of the Order that I... love enough for this. We'd have to sleep in the same bed to make sure our scents were on each other – we are animagi, of a kind, after all -- but we've been doing that since Tuesday, and... we'd have to seem _affectionate_, but that would be it. And then the others should leave you alone, but we'd still get the benefit of the prestige you'll get over being a Metamorpomagus." She seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for Tonks's response.

"Well – wotcher, my bride! "Tonks gave her a broad smile, heart jumping for a second – Hooch loved her! It fell into her stomach – Hooch loved her, but she loved someone else more and that person was her _true _chosen. She smiled anyway, "And I love you, too."

"You're my best friend!" Tonks added with false brightness.

Hooch almost seemed to flinch, but she responded, "Good, that's settled. Let's eat, then, and talk about something else."


	7. Ouse Washes, at Night

Tonks wrinkled her nose as she squelched her way along the side of the wavering silver sheen of the waterway – she enjoyed mud when the weather was warm, but it was a little too chill under the cold moonlight. She stumbled a little, hurrying to catch Hooch's hand in her own. The smaller woman turned to smile tensely at her, clearly on edge about this little visitation. Tonks knew that she would rather not have been visiting her family for the first time in several years to beg for something.

Another fifteen minutes of stumbling along the muddy path, and the two women came to a halt at the edge of the artificial waterway. Hooch let go of Tonks' hand and drew herself up, staring intently at the silvered water.

Tonks fidgeted after a few seconds and broke the silence, "what are you looking for? How do we get there? I mean, this river's only about four hundred years old, and the Hill's much older, isn't it?"

"We're watching for the exact right moment – and this is a side door. The main door's only visible on Beltane, and it isn't here. There – watch – right there…" Hooch quickly pulled a bundle of herbs out of the bag at her side.

Tonks watched, seeing nothing different, rippling dark water, flashing silver as clouds skated over the moon, dark shadows of plants along the path. She gasped suddenly as the clouds cleared. The water – stopped. Everything stood absolutely clear and solid silver for a second, then shattered as Hooch's bundle hit the water at the exact instant that she trilled a series of notes.

Tonks stared, heart in her throat even after a lifetime of magic, as the moon's bright reflection stilled to form a clear solid path to a slender watch tower, with palely gleaming white walls, a single light glowing golden-orange from a window. In an instant it stood as if it had always been there, and it HAD always been there, she understood, as long and longer than the fens and the wash that bridled them.

"Brilliant… Wizard repelling charms?" she asked.

Her partner nodded, sending a quick smile at her sideways. "And Muggle ones, but they don't reverse the same way."

"Come on – we'll go in this way and then see about finding my grandmother. This is just a gate." She offered a low growl that was almost a laugh – "it's like an iceberg in the Antarctic sea, with a bit of beauty above and a great depth of deadly mystery below." She stepped easily onto the silver bridge, striding confidently along the moon-path towards the elves' watchtower. Tonks followed, fascinated by the slight bounce of the smooth, gleaming path – it was just as she might have imagined solidified moonlight to be, if it had ever occurred to her to think about it.


	8. Underhill, in Bed

Three days later, Hooch sighed with irritation, stalking around the warm room as Tonks sat writing notes at the desk beside the bed, dressed in elegant blue pajamas and night robe, purchased in honor of this trip. The entire sleeping suite seemed to have been formed out of living stone, with not-quite-smooth walls showing the beautiful shading of its component minerals. Despite being underground, the air was not damp and the furnishings seemed like natural formations, their variable coloring harmonizing with the subtle shades of the walls. The bathing room just off of the bedchamber was quite clearly a hot spring, with a faint mineral tang and interesting crystals left rough and growing from the rock wall above the pool.

"Luv, come sit down. They'll decide when they decide." Tonks requested, watching Hooch's incessant circuits around the room. They had decided that if they were to pretend to be mated, they would maintain the pretense even when alone. Tonks was much enjoying the opportunity to snuggle with Hooch when she was awake, and to use endearments frequently.

Hooch, on the other hand, seemed to be increasingly frustrated with the slow pace of the negations. The Shee of Ely were indeed fascinated with Tonks's Metamorphomagic gift, and they sometimes seemed to be saying that they were willing to give up the fetish to Dumbledore's keeping, but they also kept coming up with new rituals and events that the two women could not refuse. Hooch had told Tonks that this was likely to happen, but she seemed to be dealing with it poorly herself. Nothing unfortunate had happened, but nothing optimistic had either.

Hooch made a growling, grumbling noise in response and threw herself onto the high bed, rolling over to scowl at Tonks from behind a pillow.

Tonks laughed, "Are you pouting?!" She privately thought that Hooch looked adorably cute like that, with an unusually childish expression on her normally sober and very adult face.

"No," she grumbled, pouting. "Come to bed?" she invited in much friendlier tone.

Tonks doused the bright light with a soft word, slammed her book closed, and climbed into the bed beside her, promptly cuddling up to Hooch under the creamy white coverlet.

"What's wrong?" she inquired softly, looking closely at her friend's face, bare inches away from her own. She could see faint lines of strain around her eyes and mouth, barely visible in the soft, ever-present glow of the luminarium crystals in the wall.

"Oh, just.." Hooch growled in frustration and squirmed to push her face into the side of Tonks' shoulder. "Nothing real – I just hate inaction, all of this social dancing around. 'S a large part of why I never went home for long after I finished school," she finished, her voice muffled. "And I think my lovely Uncle Samael is going to try something irritating – his beastly sense of propriety and tradition seems to be stronger than I recall."

Tonks sighed in sympathy – she was not nearly so restlessly driven as was Hooch, but the pace was wearing on her as well. She kissed the top of Hooch's head on impulse, telling her, "Ah, well, consider it a holiday – at least the food's good and the beds are soft. And your uncle said he could give us an answer after the fete tomorrow."

Hooch looked up at her and smiled wryly, adding, "And the folk are rude and lewd, and the entertainment brainless, and the clothes obscene. I saw the way my lovely cousin his honorable lordship was leering at you, the utterly degenerate bastard that he is." She scowled and slid her hand possessively over Tonks' side under the bedcover, much to her delight.

"He doesn't seem to bear much family resemblance, eh?" the Auror agreed, arching like a cat under Hooch's hand. Though they didn't discuss it, the affectionate touches the two were sharing had gone well beyond a false front. Tonks delighted in this development as she came to realize how very much she wanted and cared for Hooch. She tried desperately to block out the odd moments of fear and depression at the knowledge that Hooch had possibly met her lifemate, even if she wasn't currently courting her – she'd made a promise to herself that she would not think about it until after they left Underhill. Pretending to be Hooch's beloved with the certain knowledge that she would never be would have been just too hard – she had decided not to follow up on the idea until the mission was complete, cowardly or not.

"You're always perfectly honorable. I've never seen you leer at anyone, even those cabaret dancers when we went to fetch those little Hufflepuff pikers who skived off school."

Hooch's hand halted in its slow sweeps of Tonks's body, resting on her lower back. "Yes, honorable," Hooch muttered, a little bitterly. Tonks frowned, tilting her head to look at her in concern.

She smiled at Tonks a little wryly, "Don't worry about it -- I wish my grandmother were here… I don't think Samael is going to be nearly as easy to get by as I thought this would be." She trailed off, her hand warm against Tonks' back as she started to unconsciously scritch gently along the spine, making Tonks' eyelashes flutter shut for a second, heat swarming underneath her skin.

"Like what? You think he'll refuse?" she asked, a little breathily, forgetting her earlier concern. She loved having her back stroked and scratched.

"Well… The traditional thing is to require some kind of trial, or set of trials, of anyone who asks a boon. If Samael requires them, they'll be a lot more difficult than they might be if Grandmother did. I think he's enjoying this a little too much – not much happens here; this'll be the most exciting thing in ages."

"So, you think he's going to demand an impossible feat, like finding the pearl among the peas, or something? We are witches, after all," Tonks reminded her friend, rolling over to tug Hooch close, settling the other woman against her side.

"Mmmm…" half-sighed, half-grumbled Hooch, relaxing into the Auror's embrace. "True… but they know that, too, don't they?"


	9. Underhill, at the Mossy Green Cave

Tonks laughed at the antics of Hooch's young cousin's Crup puppies. The two women were out with the three youngest children of her clan, too young yet to be schooled, enjoying a picnic lunch in a vast cave, lit brightly by magically luminescent fungus and moss. Thick green-gray moss with small pale flowers that shone blue in the strange light made a soft velvety cushion for all of them to sit comfortably, Tonks settled securely between Hooch's legs.

She had stayed near the other woman for the last few days, wanting the reassurance of her touch almost more than she wanted to keep up appearances. She was desperately nervous about the party that night – she had been unusually steady on her feet so far, but last night she had had a terrible nightmare involving herself clumsily turning over an array of elven serving dishes, knocking over Hooch's lordly uncle, and then landing on Elen's talisman, only to crush it.

Hooch seemed to sense her sudden tension, stroking her arms soothingly. The other woman had been particularly sensitive and attentive to her the last few days, becoming even more protective of the Auror around the young unbonded 'Sprites who had shadowed the two of them from the beginning.

Tonks turned to smile reassuringly at her, trying to tell her with her eyes that it was all right. It really was – she knew that she'd become far less clumsy when she wasn't nervous with the martial arts training.

Hooch clutched her tight in response to the smile, nuzzling her hair, a deep turquoise today.

Tonks turned in her arms to face her solemnly. Their eyes met, Tonks' true green-hazel shining into Hooch's golden hawk's eyes. She leaned in to kiss her delicately on the lips – the first true kiss they'd shared. They'd avoided intimate kisses throughout the charade, deliberately at least on Tonks' part. She'd thought she could not bear to offer Hooch a false kiss when she wanted to give her real ones. This was a real kiss, Hooch leaning in to kiss Tonks back after she'd recovered from the surprise. They pulled away, staring at each other, both aware that this was different.

Hooch's mouth firmed suddenly, a decision made. She leaned in to Tonks' ear and whispered, "My name is Ankira Xiomara n'Rioras Hooch."

Tonks stared up at her in astonishment, well aware that this statement from a Hyter Sprite, or even a half-Hyter Sprite, was the ultimate evidence of trust and esteem. She pressed closer, sliding her arms around Hooch and burying her face in her shoulder to hide tears. Hooch loved her to tell her this, loved her deeply as well as trusted her, even if she was not to be her mate. She sighed, relaxing against her, wishing she had something to share that showed her love and trust as clearly.

"You are the only person who has seen my true eyes since I was a child," she offered, looking up suddenly. This was true – she had trusted the other woman almost immediately, enough to give her true appearance when asked. She hadn't thought to wonder about this until recently, and she hadn't brought it up, not wanting to raise questions, even with herself.

Hooch smiled, her eyes shiny for a second before she blinked and leaned in to kiss Tonks again, gently, her lips nipping lightly at the skin around Tonks' mouth before settling on her lips. Tonks pulled her from the rock she sat on down next her on the moss and kissed her back, feeling Hooch's heart beat rapidly, her breasts soft against her, the sturdy body warm and alive with strength and delight.

* * *

Tonks and Hooch sat together, cuddled on the mossy floor, a silent agreement to set aside the newest change to their relationship until they had leisure to explore it letting them concentrate on plans for that evening. Hooch looked up sharply at a squeal from one of the children, relaxing as she saw that the little boy had merely been excited at catching another child in a game of tag.

"So," she began, "I can tell you now about some of the rest of Dumbledore's instructions."

Tonks started, then paused, looking at her with a brow raised in question.

Hooch smiled wryly. "This moss is a natural filter against spells – it's almost impossible to get a long-range spell like a listening charm to work here. Too bad it can't be grown elsewhere – Severus told me about the twins' Ears."

Tonks snorted, "I knew you wouldn't speak out of turn. I have to say that those twins worry me sometimes – some of the things they've come up with definitely have dual uses, and could be used against us as easily as for. Yet another reason to be annoyed by Molly's influence against the use of the kids' skills. She's succeeded in alienating or preventing the utilization of her own kids and of Harry."

Hooch, silenced briefly, looked at her partner askance. "Do you think that they'd work for the Death Eaters because the Order isn't using them?"

"No, not knowingly, but I think that a number of the so-called pranks that they're inventing could be used in a battle or for spying, and if no one in command is interested in looking at them, well, then, what's to stop the other side from doing so?" Tonks frowned briefly. "And they might not look so closely – they're not exactly concerned about how something is used as long as they're paid."

"Hmmm. Have you mentioned this to the Headmaster?" Hooch asked. She couldn't imagine the boys she'd coached for several years deliberately going against the light, but she could easily see them going too far without a wiser eye to force them to reflect. That was something she'd seen all too much evidence of – the twins never really seemed to know when to stop when they got started on a something, whether a Quidditch play, a prank, or a tease of another student. She thought uneasily of young Harry during the year that Sirius Black had been apparently intent on kidnapping and murdering him – things she'd overheard since had suggested that the twins had snuck the boy into Hogsmeade somehow, when it was clearly far too dangerous for him to be there. That hardly smacked of good judgment.

"No. I will when we get back, if you think it would be a good idea." Tonks looked a bit relieved – she was well aware that if Molly heard anything like either support for the twins' initiation or a suggestion that their pranks might be useful to the Light or the Dark side, she would attack the messenger. If she had support from Hooch, who after all knew the boys quite well, it would not be nearly as alarming.

"That aside, what I wanted to tell you was – Elen's talisman is only part of the reason we're here." The sprite looked nervously at her companion.

"What?" Tonks frowned, quite sure that whatever Hooch was speaking of, it had to be at least tangentially related to Dumbledore. She looked up with intent eyes, "what is so secret, that you can only speak of it here?"

"Did you know that Hogwarts used to teach sorcery after the OWLS?" Hooch said abruptly in an apparent non-sequitor.

"Uh – really? I thought that was supposed to be excessively difficult -- I know that the Unspeakables study that sometimes, but no one talks about it. A great-great grandmother of mine was supposed to have been a sorcerer. Of Air, I think. Why?"

"I'm getting to why, but no, it isn't impossible. Most apprentice sorcerers started at about 16 or 17, or just after OWLS. Hogwarts' House System lends itself rather perfectly to sorting and amplifying the elemental nature of its students – everyone's magical nature is made up of all four elements, but sorcery requires an intrinsic imbalance, which the Houses reinforce while it's still malleable due to youth. Gryffindor takes those with majority fire and earth focuses, Hufflepuff with earth and water, Ravenclaw air and fire, and Slytherin water and earth. Younglings with other mixes or a strong desire can end up in any of the houses that they're drawn to, but the magical nature affects personality and drive, so..."

"Anyway, they stopped teaching it through the school some three hundred years or so ago, when they got a close-minded and excessively political Headmaster. It was easy enough for him ban it, after all – the teachers were usually Selieghe, and there was warring Underhill then that kept involving wizards and muggles in spectacularly horrible ways, and apprentice sorcerers often enough meet with injury or even death."

"Also, an apprentice fire adept had accidentally immolated himself and most of London in 1666. It was easy to convince the public that sorcery was too dangerous and was unnecessary. It isn't like other magic – only the very strongest can use it accidentally or without training. The minister at the time was from that same lot of strange overly religious types as Molly Weasley's family, and had convinced himself that sorcery was evil because it involved contracts with other-planar beings, unlike wand magic. Also, he was a Gryffindor, and they've always had the least sorcerers, and been most suspicious of them – Fire's the rarest and most difficult element."

"The Great Fire of London! I thought that was a muggle baker? And how does this connect?" Tonks knew that this wasn't the end of the story – she'd grown used to Hooch's occasional digressions into history. The other woman adored it – Tonks privately thought that she'd be a far better professor of Magical History than Binns, but how did one fire a ghost, or send him into retirement?

"He _was_ a baker – at least, he was a Muggleborn sixth-year who apparently tried his Ordeal early in order to get a better way of baking his father's bread. Headmaster at the time ran the Seleighe professor out, and then for a time anyone who wished to learn it apprenticed him or herself to a willing witch or wizard sorcerer. Eventually they even banned that, and limited it to Unspeakables by default."

Hooch sighed, and leaned back on her elbows a bit. "I'm just up to undertaking my Ordeal – I'm to be an adept of Air, but I've taken it slowly because I've been away from my teacher so much – and Dumbledore also thinks that it may be time to bring sorcery back to Hogwarts. He thinks that the children will need it, with old Moldy Warts running around. That one seems to have possibly learned a bit of sorcery from an Unselieghe."

"Oh. Wow. What's the Ordeal? Is it dangerous?" Tonks asked, biting her lip. She was fairly suspicious that it _was_ dangerous. "Ordeal" wasn't exactly an encouraging name - it didn't exactly bring to mind something like fancy dress balls or high teas.

"Rather. I don't know the details – no one does until they go through it. My gran will help me with that while we're home, when she comes back, and I was hoping you'd stand with me afterward?" Hooch looked at her friend expectantly.

"Of course. I don't like the unknown aspects of it, but of course I'll stand with you, in whatever way that you need," Tonks said firmly, taking her friend's hand reassuringly. "So, if Dumbledore's in on this, does he want you to teach any baby sorcerers we may have in the school?"

"Thank you." Hooch smiled brightly, leaning to bump her forehead gently against Tonks's, and squeezing her hand. "No, I can't teach yet – I'll only be a sort of journeyman after I succeed at the Ordeal, if I succeed. I'm going to try to convince my friends Ghost or Kemoc to come teach. Ghost's a true Necromancer – it's legal in the States where she's from - and also an Adept of Water. Kemoc's an Adept of Earth, and a mage-smith. Ghost will be both easier and harder to drag away – she's taking a leave from a job with the Magical Coroner's office in New York and is free to come with us, but is also trying to relax, not fight a war. And, too, she's fairly well known, and doesn't think much of the British Ministry's stance on and definition of Dark Arts, as of course they include her branch of Necromancy."

Tonks interrupted, her hazel eyes wide – "If she's the Ghost I'm thinking of, I'd be surprised if we did get her. Moody's says that it's ridiculous that we can't use necromancy to solve murders anymore just because Voldemort used Inferi to ill effect – I know it's not at all the same thing, but most of the younger Aurors still get the creeping heebie-jeebies from the thought of it."

"Yes, well, she's an excellent teacher, all other things aside. Dumbledore's certainly hired worse." Hooch snorted, thinking of some of the wonders that had graced the other side of the staff table over the past decade.

"Anyway, Kemoc isn't objectionable any more than any other non-human who practices an unusual form of magic. He's a mage-smith – right now he mostly makes shoes for Thestrals, specialized implements for alchemy, and so on, but he's one of the foremost forgers of magicked swords in the world."

"Actually, we might need both of them. He's very good at teaching practicalities, but he usually lets his students find out about the dangerous little details on their own – if they don't study as they should, they're like to end up damaged or changed – usually irreparably. Ghost likes to talk, and she goes into EXHAUSTIVE detail about things like theory. Rather like old Binns, but no student of hers has ever fallen asleep listening to her."

"Huh. So, we need to get Elen's Talisman, and a teacher or two of sorcery for Hogwarts, and get you through your next stage of your own study of sorcery," stated Tonks, trying to break the flow of information down into salient points.

"Yes. The Headmaster also wants to have all of the members of the Order tested to see if they could learn sorcery – none of you who aren't in the Unspeakables are likely to have been taught, but maybe one out of every five wizards and witches has the potential, and more than that out of the stronger ones. It tends to go hand in hand up to a certain level, although the very strongest wizards usually can't use it at all because their magic is too balanced between the elements."

"Do you think that I have the potential? I was in Ravenclaw, so would it be in Air?" Tonks asked with a mix of apprehension and fascination. She grinned suddenly – "I'd love to be able to call up a whirlwind, say, in the middle of good ole' Snape's cauldron, or Molly's stew pot."

"What did Severus do to you? I can see Molly, but… Anyway, I'd guess that you do have potential, but I can't tell in what area yet. I'd actually guess that it'd be Water for you, though, because of the metamorphomagism." Hooch looked at her friend thoughtfully, a considering glint in her hawk's eyes. "Changeable and all that."

"So we'll need Ghost or Kemoc or whoever for that." She heaved a sigh suddenly, and flopped over gracelessly on the soft moss with a thump. "Too much! Let's just work on the Talisman for now, and I suppose your Ordeal, eh?"

"Sounds fine to me," the older woman agreed, looking down affectionately at her companion. "We can chat up Ghost at the party tonight, anyway, and lay the ground for more later. The Ordeal and Kemoc'll have to wait until my Grandmother returns in a sennight, as I need her for the one, and the other always travels with her when she goes to Alfhelm."

The three children and their Crups came flying up suddenly and threw themselves down on top of the two women, clamoring for them to come and play with them. Glad to abandon serious topics, they allowed themselves to be dragged out onto the moss.


	10. Underhill, the Lughnasa Feast

Tonks leaned against Hooch's side slightly, watching all of the fascinatingly exotic Fae dressed in a bewildering array of fancy dress. She had never seen such a wild variety of people in such a wild variety of clothing – or lack of clothing, in some cases. Even those who wore no clothing – pookhas, grims, even a centaur or two – had feathers or beads or glowing tattoos or body paint.

She couldn't suppress a tiny smile of satisfaction at her own clothing – she wore butter-soft teal-green leather trousers and tight embroidered bodice over a loose pale-gold silk blouse. A giggling sylph had put up her hair, turned a dark teal and long for the occasion, braiding dozens of small bells, charms and feathers into it.

She cast an admiring glance at Hooch, gorgeously severe in a much darker shade of teal, almost black with only a hint of gold edging at the sleeves showing under her long silk coat. They had deliberately chosen shades of the same colors to emphasize their relationship, and they stayed close together.

"Well, well. So, how the mighty have fallen…" Tonks started, turning her head to face the speaker with the light, smooth voice. A tall woman with long, loose silver hair and a wry smile stood in front of them, holding a wine goblet in one gloved hand.

"Ghost!" Hooch leaned forward to hug the taller woman, clasping her by the waist to smile up at her. The tall woman leaned forward to kiss her lightly, shooting Tonks a teasing glance as she did.

"Hooch!" She mocked gently. "And this must be your intended?" Ghost released Hooch to turn and offer her free hand to the Auror.

"A pleasure," said Tonks, slightly uncertainly. She wasn't quite sure if it was a pleasure.

"Yes," said Hooch firmly, sliding an arm around Tonks, smiling rather proudly at her. "This is Tonks – she's a colleague of yours, Ghost. An Auror with the British Ministry."

"Ah. I'm rather off my own Ministry just now. But it is a _pleasure_…" Ghost raised her eyebrows briefly, somehow implying that it truly was a pleasure.

Tonks blinked, startled, as Hooch snorted lightly, saying, "ignore her, love – she flirts with every pretty woman, but never follows through."

"Well, now, my dear, that's not very kind of you – I'm just waiting for the right girl." Clear grey eyes sparkled mischievously as the Necromancer added, "we can't all be as lucky as you apparently are." She smiled more kindly at Tonks.

Tonks relaxed and smiled back, responding, "I think I'm the lucky one. So, which Division are you with? I'm Investigations."

"I split between Crime Scene and Medical Examiner's office – same as your Magical Coroner, basically. We tend to be much more specialized over in the States – I think that the two divisions are merged here?" Ghost lilted her voice to make the statement a question, looking inquisitively at the other woman.

"Mmm, sort of. We handle a lot of what your Crime Scene units do in Investigative, and the Coroner basically does autopsies. We don't use Necromancy anymore, or any of the other forms of sorcery, although we do use forensic divination, some."

"Ah. I had heard as such. I had to sign a paper saying that I would not use my 'peculiar and malignant arts' to get permission to visit the country. Makes a change from local cop shops asking me to work for free, but not very welcoming, I have to say." Ghost was polite, but her opinion of the local rules was clear, and not very flattering.

"Meh," said Tonks, not wanting to say anything against her own Auror command, but rather agreeing with the Necromancer.

"Well," interrupted Hooch, slipping her arm into the crooks of Ghost's and Tonks's arms and pulling them forward, "let's leave that discussion for another day, and go investigate the food. Samael never skimps on the exotic for these things…"

* * *

Tonks leaned comfortably against Hooch, as they swayed slowly to music being played from a dais off to the side of the crowded room. Some folk were dancing, others were talking in small groups, their voices a constant low buzz and rumble, and more yet were sitting on silky moss tuffets that had drifted up out of the floor and walls an hour or so after dinner. She felt comfortably full, nearly relaxed after a long, active day – the party had been much more enjoyable than she had been afraid of, and nothing had yet gone wrong.

Boom, boom, boom! She jerked upright, feeling her arm twitch towards her wand holster before she caught site of the Herald ceremoniously thumping a bodhran drum standing near the primary stage area. 'Spoke too soon!' she thought with a mental groan – now something was going to go wrong. She could feel it.

The music had stopped, and _most_ of the talking – she did hear someone behind them say, "what's that jumped-up hob want now?", quickly followed by a slapping sound and a grunt.

A small pyramid of shining gold and jewels stood grandly on the dais, beaming at the more-or-less patient crowd. Hooch's uncle Samael, as short as she was but much more round, was absurdly vain and in love with his own position – he rather reminded Tonks of Fudge in some ways – but unlike the Minister of Magic, he always seemed to mean well, and had a good sense of humor. Tonks rather liked him.

Hooch turned in Tonks's arms to face the dais, keeping the auror's arms wrapped around her. Tonks pulled her back against herself and watched over her shoulder as the Lord of the Mound began to speak.

"Welcome, welcome all ye Fair Folk to this grand feast of Lughnasah, and take joy in the many weddings among our folk this year! And a special welcome to my dear niece Hooch, who has brought her chosen home – maybe next year at this time we'll celebrate a wedding in _our_ family. Heh, heh, heh!" The mound of gold that was Samael shimmered in the light as he chuckled happily.

Tonks's face felt hot, as Hooch grumbled a little and pushed back into her – the Hyter sprite hated this sort of attention. A tangle-headed Brownie caught her eye and winked at her, an indulgent smile on his face – she blushed harder.

"My niece has made request of me for her allies among the human Magicals – I cannot give her anything of our making, for that would violate the pact, and I must then also aid her enemies. But!" Samael paused dramatically, pulling himself up straight and tall.

"The item she has requested is not of our making, but was put into our care. Though long have we held it safe, it has been decided that she and her companion may win it free through brave deeds, as has always been the tradition. There shall be a trial of three!" Samael beamed majestically at the startled folk.

Tonks looked around in dismay as the people around her nodded agreement, their appreciation growing for Samael's grand pronouncement. This was an exciting event – a trial of three in addition to the usual weddings and sacrifices would make this Lughnasah feast one to remember.

Hooch bumped her head back against Tonks's shoulder lightly with a barely audible groan – she'd told Tonks that something like this might happen, but she was clearly unpleased.

She pulled gently loose from her partner and strode grandly up to the stage, pulling Tonks with her.

"We are honored, my Lord Uncle, to serve the will of this great court!" she bowed deeply to the dais, and then turned and did the same to the watching crowd, Tonks copying her movements.

"What is to be the first task, my Lord Uncle?" Hooch stood proudly before her uncle's whispering court, every inch the Elven noble. Tonks stood beside her, drawing on every ounce of command presence that she had learned and developed as an Auror.

"You must travel to the Ruined Henge far south of here, and request that the Holly Woman still remaining give you a cutting of her tree to bring back here, that she might return from her long exile. Too long has she stayed in that polluted place without recourse or respite!" Samael nodded grandly, obviously proud of his grand idea. "Do you accept this task, the both of ye?"

"I do accept."

"I do accept," Tonks followed Hooch with her own acceptance, hoping that the Sprite knew what she was doing. 'Polluted' didn't sound good.

"So mote it be!" said Samael, the Herald behind him beginning to drum him off the stage.

An excited buzz sprang up in the room, as Hooch caught Tonks's hand and drew her towards the stage, a dangerous glitter in her golden green eyes.

"Tomorrow we'll talk about the details, niece!" said Samael quickly, looking a bit shifty as he darted off after a smirking Banshee with a come-hither look as fast as his gold vestments would allow.

Hooch growled a little, standing stiffly watching him leave.

She sighed, dropping her head forward a little, then lifted it with a fixed smile.

"Well! Won't this just be fun!" she drew Tonks with her towards an isolated tuffet, smiling and responding meaninglessly to the many folk who congratulated them as they went.

Tonks didn't speak until they reached a dim range of tuffets near a wall. She dropped down on a tuffet that Hooch had led her to, facing away from the fairy folk, now dancing to wild skirls of pipe music. Sighing enormously, she said, "shouldn't we go back to our room to discuss this?"

"No. It's bad luck to leave Lughnasa before moonset, unless you're new married. Nobody will bother us here – take a look at what the others off to the side are doing. Lughnasa _is _associated with fertility…"

Tonks looked at her for a second, then looked slowly off in the direction Hooch had indicated, yipping a bit. She watched with wide eyes as a pair made up of a young male Hyter Sprite and an alarmingly sharp-toothed Shee woman thrust against each other obscenely in a dark fold of the room off to their left.

She turned her head quickly away to look to their right. Tonks had seen and done a fair number of things in the years since she'd left Hogwarts, but she'd been so busy with Auror studies and duties that she'd paid very little attention to sex after her relationship with Hestia had ended three years earlier, other than to make jokes. She counted at least three pairs doing things that she'd never even heard of, let alone wanted to do.

She scowled at Hooch's amused smile. "What exactly is that?" she asked quietly, snuggling down behind the tuffet, tucking her legs beneath herself.

Hooch looked in the direction that Tonks had nodded, considering. "A feather, I believe. Interesting use. Never thought of that." She moved again, reaching to wrap herself around the younger woman, cuddling her close to lean against her chest.

"And I hope you continue not to," muttered Tonks, looking askance at the two Hyter Sprites across the room. That did not look comfortable, and that was _not _a place to lose little feather tendrils…

She took a deep breath, resolutely bringing her mind back to the first shock of the evening. Tonks snuggled into Hooch and asked about the trial that they'd been assigned.

"The Ruined Henge is in Sussex – the Muggles and Magicals call it Chanctonbury Ring. The Muggles think that it's infested with UFOs, and not even those religious wanna-be witches will use it for ceremonies. The Magicals think that some Muggle-baiter in the Grindlewald war cursed it and won't use it, either. It was in truth some Unseleighe who got in a fight with some Muggleborn wizards who were in a group called the Hellfire club in the 1700's. It was made up of squibs, Magicals, and Muggles who went around causing trouble, ravishing women and wasting money. They tried to summon the Muggle devil and instead brought up an Earth elemental – another instance of misdone sorcery for the Ministry to fuss over."

Tonks gasped, looking sharply up at Hooch.

"Oooh, yes. Luckily, all it did was kill most of them and knock over the henge stones – or so they thought. After that, anything that was worked there went wrong, and magical plants grown there… twisted. Rowans _drew_ lightning instead of repelling it, marriages performed under any oaks within twenty miles failed within months, apple trees produced infertility instead of fertility, hazelnuts caused hours of drooling idiocy instead of brilliance, etc. Anyway, eventually, one of the surviving Magical Hellfire Club members repented. He sacrificed all of his winnings from his time with the Club to plant the entire hill and Henge with beeches."

"Nearly inert magically, but a stabilizing influence…" mused Tonks.

"Exactly so. Maybe it pacified the elemental's curse, or maybe it just contained it, but the plants became much more stable, although it still wasn't wise to use them in any potions or workings. People still saw strange lights and had strange accidents – the Ministry stationed a regular obliviator near it. The idea of UFO sightings was a huge boon to them when it came up – it's made things much easier, and the post usually is a bottom level one now. Anyway, that hurricane in '87 knocked most of them down. Ever since, the area's been… restless, although it's quieted as some of the trees grow back up."

She swallowed, taking a deep drink of some wine that had appeared on the tuffet for them, her usual equanimity restored by her beloved history and the wine.

"So, nobody goes there for years and years, but after the hurricane, a fairy steading in Sussex that looks to this one started checking on it once in a while. And eventually, they find that there are a few surviving tree folk there, but they aren't very sane, and two die when they try to move them. They managed to move the other four that they knew about, but it was difficult – they had to convince them to agree to go, and tree folk hate moving. Usually, they associate the idea with death. Anyway, they thought they'd gotten everyone, but about a year ago, a Halfling Sprite's child – my second cousin, actually – who was camping up there with some Muggle friends found that there was another one, a Holly woman. It was all anyone talked about for months, and everyone they sent to get her couldn't convince her to go, and no one wanted to go up there. Samael has apparently decided that it's time for another go at it."

"Oookay… so we have to convince a mad tree spirit that we want to help her, not kill her, in the middle of a cursed henge, and bring a plant back here safely. Do we know if the elemental is still there?"

"That's about the size of it. It's surely still there – but I don't know if it will actually be a problem – it let the others go without any issues. It's sort of like being sent to a haunted house to spend the night and bring back a token, I think."

"I never even liked going to the Shrieking Shack…" grumbled Tonks, "but oh, well, here we go. I doubt that this one contains anything as benign as a werewolf."

She sighed, snuggling back against Hooch to think, pulling her partner's wine goblet down to sip out of it. She gave up thoughts of their new quest as a bad job, willing to think about them tomorrow, but not tonight.

She was surprised to find that she really wasn't all that interested in what the 'celebrating' pairs were doing as her eyes roved around – seeing so much of it going on simply made it lose any real interest, especially as most of the other pairs included males. She paused on that thought, eyes fixed on one particular pair.

The two women were two of the minority going beyond heavy snogging and cuddling. Tonks watched, swallowing heavily. The reflected light from the main room was flickering off of a breast within an open shirt, making sweat shine as it beaded on the heaving tip, a gold ring gleaming. The woman's partner moved her, her mouth covering the taut nipple, clamping on the ring to draw it up and release it, her hand catching the other breast as her mouth left the first to move down her mate's body. The prone woman's body jerked, and she rolled slightly, taking herself back into the shadows. Maybe she was still interested, at least in the right sight…

"See something interesting, my dear?" she felt as much as heard as Hooch breathed the words into her ear, stroking her neck gently.

Tonks tilted her head back against Hooch's shoulder, murmuring quietly to her, "I've never seen a pierced nipple before… I thought it was only Muggles that did that."

Hooch chuckled, stroking her silk-clad sides with the tips of her fingers. "Some elves do, too. I wouldn't recommend it to you as a shape-shifter, though. I've heard that it feels… incredible, but the risk of tearing when you shift has never seemed worth it to me."

"Lord no," Tonks agreed with a slight shudder, her eyes going back to watch as the two women across the room moved in the shadows, almost but not quite hidden. The motions of their silhouettes made it obvious what they were doing. She swallowed heavily. This was going to be a long night, and Hooch's distracting hands running lightly over her body weren't helping…


	11. Ouse Washes, Waiting for Serenity

Tonks readied herself for the inevitable dizziness and held the map-glass to her eye. Her stomach lurched as a perfect mirror image of the land between the Steading and the Ruined Henge appeared and flowed madly beneath her gaze, the overland route glowing a sullen orange. Finally a low ridge appeared, with a smoothly landscaped muggle lawn on one side and trees on the other, with the circle right at the head, a few scraggly trees visible within it. Her brow creased – there were no megaliths.

"Hooch? I thought this was supposed to be a henge. I don't see any stones." She rubbed her eye irritably.

"Stop, you'll just make it worse," said Hooch, reaching to grab Tonks' hand. "It's not that kind of henge – the ritual part was wooden, and the posts have been either destroyed or hidden from muggle and human Magical eyes. 'S probably how the Woodfolk were overlooked."

"Oh, right enough. I wish Hogwarts offered Ritual! I had to take Potions in the Academy to make up for Snape and didn't have room to take it."

Andromeda had not taken any of the Blacks' books when she'd left, and had developed a positive hatred for any of the more marginally accepted Magics, which included most Ritual or Old Magick. Tonks, a true Ravenclaw, had sometimes thought with longing of all of the books and knowledge held within her mother's family's home – she wondered what Sirius had done with them. They had discussed the books some, but there'd never been any time…

"Well, History of Magic _should_include this sort of thing, even if it doesn't tell you how to do it, but Binns is obsessed with intra-Magical Being wars."

Hooch let go of Tonks's hand to start playing with the beads that the Auror still wore braided into her teal hair. Tonks had decided to keep them as a novelty – she so often changed the length and texture of her hair that she was rarely able to wear anything in it.

"I think that Dumbledore dropped even lecture seminars on it after the Death Eaters started showing up – he thinks that Riddle got his ideas there." She paused a beat, adding, "besides, I think that the Headmaster feels that students are too young to be exposed to such chancy possibilities. He agonized enough over bringing back Sorcery, and over having any sort of extra Defense or Weapons training available. Even some Muggle boarding schools have martial arts classes..."

"Dumbledore sees everyone as tall toddlers, needing to be nannied and protected – that's obvious enough." Tonks agreed with a nod, jerking her braids in Hooch's hands. She winced – she wasn't used to them yet.

"He's not really old compared to most Sidhe, but he surely is for a human, and he has taught or been headmaster for at least half of the adults in England – I think it warped his view."

"Just being British warped his view. All y'all are mad as sin, you know." Ghost startled them both by wrapping one arm around each of them and smirking down at them from behind.

"Why did you have to come again?" Hooch pulled away, lifting up Ghost's arm and dropping it ostentatiously. Tonks also pulled away, adjusting her satchel.

"This is my vacation. I'm supposed to play tourist. Besides, Samael asked me to – he didn't want to take chances with any hungry ghosts. He doesn't want y'all dead or possessed, after all."

Ghost had appeared in the two women's chambers in the Steading and asked to accompany them the morning after the Lughnasa feast. She'd claimed to be getting a bit bored with her relaxing vacation in the unchanging dream of the fairy steading. Hooch seemed amused but skeptical – Tonks was hesitantly welcoming. The idea of speaking with a forensic necromancer was fascinating, but the other woman made her slightly uneasy.

"Besides – somebody has to keep Miss Lady Serenity over there occupied so y'all can have some time alone, you know," Ghost added, tossing a mild glare towards the abandoned satchel of the party's fourth member.

"Now, now," protested Hooch mildly. "We've been friends since we all spent the summers here as little titchy things. Besides, she's going to create a record garnet to show the Council proof that we actually did what we said we would do. Can you do that?"

"No, I can't," Ghost acknowledged grudgingly – the power to create low-energy reusable record garnets that could be used to project events unaltered was limited to Fire Sorcerers and other advanced users of fire magic.

"Well, neither can we. I don't know any fire magic, and Tonks is water-natured, same as you – she couldn't touch it."

"Wait, so me being water means I shouldn't be able to do fire magic? I've never had any trouble with fire charms." Tonks frowned, rather indignant that they thought that she couldn't do such basic spells just because she'd found out that her magical nature was very purely water.

"Those are fire _charms_ – wizarding magic." Ghost responded.

"Not much affected by magical nature – even someone whose nature was completely air would be able to do basic earth charms. Not the spells of sorcery, of the High Magicks, though." Hooch explained, seeing Tonks's comprehension grow.

"And this is sorcery."

"Surely is – there are wizard charms that will create records, but not reliable ones that can be projected," Ghost agreed. "Of course, Muggle video cams can do it too, but they tend to implode into little heaps of dead metal around too much magickal energy. Not very convincing to most faerie, eh?"

"No, it's not," Tonks laughed, grinning. "Did I ever tell you the story of the time my Muggleborn dorm-mate tried to sneak in a Walkman to play us some Muggle song and tried to play it during Binns' class? It shorted and blew up, and _he_ blew straight up through the ceiling! We got cheered for it when we got back to the dorm, and that's something in Ravenclaw."

"It certainly is!" agreed Hooch, sliding her arm comfortably around Tonks' shoulder. "I'd be shocked to see any of my little 'Claws show any approval of anything that disrupted a class, even that one."

"As to that, generations of Ravenclaws have discarded that class, Defense, Muggles, and Divs and run in-House tutorials. We respect the position, but _not_ poor teaching." Tonks sighed a little, looking contemplatively at Hooch – the Hyter Sprite would make a much better History professor.

She sometimes privately thought that Headmaster Dumbledore's attention was too scattered between Hogwarts, the Order, the Wizengamot, and many other things to really give all of his positions their due. What else could explain the poor quality of instruction in courses that the Headmaster was uninterested in? Well, Defense was cursed, everyone knew that, but nothing could excuse Binns, or that ancient Pureblood teaching Muggle Studies.

"I have to say, a school where the students have to teach themselves for half the courses because of bad teachers doesn't sound so good, ladies. Plus, I heard that it doesn't teach _any_ higher maths, literature, sciences, Advanced Magics, Magical Civs, or many electives?" Ghost trailed her voice off, raising her arched brows questioningly.

"We have electives! But, no. No, it doesn't – there are summer self-study courses for maths, but only students in Arithmancy take them. Advanced magic and magical civilizations are only in college courses, except for people with inborn gifts." Hooch scowled slightly defensively – Tonks knew that her friend agreed with Ghost's criticism, but it _was_her school. Tonks herself had felt distinctly cheated when she'd graduated and met students from other schools and realized how much she didn't know that was widely taught overseas.

"What do you do with your necromancers? That's a born gift, you know – even if it is hated here." The necromancer's eyes seemed to glaze a little as she added, "funny things can happen with a strong one if they aren't trained. Messy things, too." She grinned a little grimly.

"Uh… I don't know." Tonks was a little startled as she thought about it. "I've never met anyone who was one before, or heard of anything except what happened during the Grindlewald wars. What happens?" She thought uneasily about some of the stories she'd heard about necromancers.

"Roadkill can reanimate and follow them down the road, or dead pets dig themselves out of the ground and follow them home. Remember those skunks in Michigan, Ghost?" Hooch grinned teasingly at her childhood friend.

"Eeew!" exclaimed Tonks as Ghost laughed and stuck her tongue out at Hooch.

"Yeah, yeah. Like you didn't have some issues when you were trying to learn your gifts!" The necromancer was blushing, her pale skin showing the slightest flush vividly.

Tonks turned under Hooch's arm, glad to leave the topic of dead animals to ask her friend what sort of accidents she'd had, but was interrupted by the arrival of Serenity.

"I'm terribly sorry for the delay, but I simply had to take a flue from Geneva," apologized the beautiful ash-blonde Fire Sorceress, who was another halfling like Hooch who worked primarily in the Wizarding World, though in Switzerland as a financier rather than in her home country. "Will we apparate, or walk an elf-way?"

"Take the elf-way part way, then walk the last eight kilometers in. The elf-ways near the henge are still… twisted. We talked about this before – I hope you have boots in that bag of yours!" Ghost looked disapprovingly at Serenity's soft shoes.

"Well-broken in and waterproofed!" said Serenity, too sweetly, looking distastefully at Ghost. "I may not tramp about like some jolly human schoolgirl every weekend, but I am capable of acquiring necessary items."

Tonks sighed slightly, distracted enough to stumble over her own feet as she moved to stand waiting near the threshold to the elf-way, one of the ancient Sidhe-built roadways that crossed between gates to the various parts of Underhill. Hooch had told her of the long-standing dislike between her two old friends – this seemed like it could be a _long_ few days.


End file.
